For The Love of a Comtesse
by Violet Halliwell
Summary: Isabelle Delauncey's family died in a tragic fire at their home, leaving her an orphan. Isabella's care was charged to her God father. She traveled to Paris to live with the man who is now her guardian. How will Captain Treville react when his God daughter and one of his own Musketeers fall in love? Set in season one of the TV show.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Chapter One

D'Artagnan could not believe this was happening. He looked to his left as he pressed his back against the door. He reached quickly pulling the wardrobe over. He didn't hesitate to dash across the room and launch himself out of the window landing roughly on the cold ground below. D'Artagnan laid where he landed winded unable to move.

"There he is," the women who had accused him of murder shouted from the window. "Get him!"

D'Artagnan dragged himself to his feet and set off running as fast as could holding his side. "He's a murderer!" a man shouted behind him. "Stop him." D'Artagnan looked behind him to see they were still following as he passed through an archway and into the market place. He realised even in the crowded market he wasn't going to be able to lose them. D'Artagnan ducked behind a pillar and peaked out to see he had been right. They were heading right for where he was.

Thinking on his feet he reached forward and grabbed the arm of the woman in front of him unaware her friend was only a stall away. "I'll give you five livres to kiss me," he told the woman. He looked sideways and realized he didn't have time to wait for her to answer. He pulled her to him, kissing her. Constance made a noise of protest her eyes wide. Isabella moved quickly approaching her friend.

"That actually worked," D'Artagnan said impressed. His relief was short lived when Constance brought her knee up in between his legs.

"Oh, you degenerate," Constance said just as Isabella reached them. She grabbed a knife as she reached Constance and the stranger holding it up.

"Touch her again and I'll gut you like a fish," Isabella told him. D'Artagnan looked from Constance to Isabella surprised.

"My apologies, Mademoiselle," he said.

"It's Madame," Constance said.

"I won't trouble you any further," D'Artagnan told her and bowed slightly to both women before he began to walk away wincing in pain as he did.

"Are you alright?" Constance questioned as Isabella put down the knife she had been holding.

"Do you know the way to the Musketeer's Garrison?" he asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Isabella asked.

"I have some business to settle on my father's behalf," D'Artagnan said.

"You really don't look well," Constance said. Constance and Isabella watched as D'Artagnan collapsed to the ground. Constance let out a sigh and stepped forward. "Come on. We'd best get him to my husband's house. We can't leave him here in the street." Isabella rolled her eyes unhappily but stepped forward to help her friend lift the stranger each of them taking one of his arms.

* * *

D'Artagnan woke up slowly feeling groggy. He grabbed Constance's hand suddenly stopping her running the damp cloth over his head as he looked at her alarmed. "Where am I?"

"My husband's house," Constance told him wrenching her hand from his grasp. He sat but his head swam so he laid back down for a moment.

"No," he groaned. "I can't stay here." He sat up before tossing his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up hitting his head on the light. "I have an appointment with the musketeer, Athos."

Constance watched him confused. "I know him. Is he a friend of yours?" she asked.

"Not exactly," D'Artagnan said as he slid his arms into his shirt.

"You can barely walk," Constance observed.

"That's my problem," D'Artagnan told her. "Now are you going to tell me the way to the Musketeer's garrison or not?"

"You're in no shape to fight," Constance said, standing up and walking round the bed. "If that's what you're thinking of." D'Artagnan stopped in the middle of pulling his boots on to look at her. "I have three older brothers. I know that look in a man's eye."

D'Artagnan looked away from her and continued to fight with his boots. "With respect that's none of your business."

"You made it my business when you fell at my feet," Constance said.

"You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure you are used to it," D'Artagnan said.

"I should have just left you in the gutter," Constance told him.

"My apologies," D'Artagnan said. "I'm not always so ill mannered. Might I enquire the name of my saviour?"

"Bonacieux," she answered. "Constance Bonacieux."

"Athos killed my father, Constance," D'Artagnan told her. "That's why I must face him. I'm D'Artagnan. Please think kindly of my name if you think of it at all."

Constance watched D'Artagnan leave then went straight to the window to see which way he was going. Isabella stepped into the room when he was gone. "I think you have yourself an admirer there, Constance," her friend said. Constance looked back at Isabella with a blush.

"We need to stop him before he does something idiotic," Constance said.

"How do you propose we do that?"

"He's heading for the Musketeer Garrison. No one will stop us going in if you are with me."

"Constance," Isabella groaned. "I've only been in Paris three weeks. I didn't want to have to go there yet."

"D'Artagnan is going to get himself killed if we don't stop him."

"Fine, come on," Isabella said. Her friend followed her from the house towards the garrison.

* * *

Athos, Aramis and Porthos directed their horses into the garrison and dismounted handing the reigns over to the stable hands. Athos looked up to Treville's office he was at the bottom of the steps when he stopped at the voice behind him.

"I'm looking for Athos," D'Artagnan said as he passed under the archway that made up the entrance to the garrison.

"You found him," Athos said turning. D'Artagnan cocked his gun and pointed it at Athos. Both Porthos and Aramis stopped curious now.

"My name is D'Artagnan, of Lupiac in Gascony," he told them. He lowered his gun and prepared to draw his sword. "Prepare to fight. One of us dies here."

"Now, that's the way to make an entrance," Aramis said, with a smirk in Porthos' direction. The large Musketeer smiled in response. Athos stepped forward and drew his sword.

"Can I ask why?" Athos questioned, his tone mildly curious.

"You murdered my father."

"You're mistaken," Athos told him. "I'm not the man you're looking for."

"Murderer!" D'Artagnan bellowed, running towards him. Athos raised his sword easily, deflecting D'Artagnan blow. "Do you deny you shot Alexandre D'Artagnan two days ago in cold blood?"

"I usually remember the men I kill," Athos commented. "That name means nothing to me."

"Then you are a liar as well," D'Artagnan said. D'Artagnan launched himself at Athos again, the Musketeer engaged him this time. The two men circling the garrison as they fought.

"Remarkable," Aramis said. "He's keeping up with Athos."

"Rubbish," Porthos shot back. "He just doesn't want to hurt the lunatic." Aramis and Porthos both looked at each other before they laughed. Athos finally backed D'Artagnan against a pillar, he drove his dagger into the wood beside the boy's head with his sword as his neck.

"That's enough," Athos told him. "That could have been your throat. Don't make me kill you over a mistake." Athos turned, releasing him and walking away. "I didn't kill your father and I don't want to kill you."

D'Artagnan threw his sword to the ground and retrieved Athos' dagger. "Athos," Porthos called out as D'Artagnan threw the dagger. Athos turned to see the dagger sail passed his head and imbedded itself into the wood beside Aramis'. Athos and Aramis both eyed the dagger before looking at D'Artagnan.

"And that could have been your back," D'Artagnan told him, retrieving his sword and pointing it at Athos again. "Now, fight me or die on your knees. I don't care which." Athos just remained staring at him. "No?" D'Artagnan dashed forward with a cry but Aramis raised his sword stopping him.

"He said enough," Aramis stated.

"Very well," D'Artagnan said a little out of breath. "I'll fight both of you." D'Artagnan was only fighting with Aramis for a moment before all three Musketeers had his sword pinned down under theirs on the table.

"Three of us," Porthos corrected him. "Now, for God's sake put up your sword."

"You'll have to kill me first," D'Artagnan told him. He yanked his sword free and set about all three of them.

"Lively little bugger, aren't you?" Porthos observed. It didn't take long before the three of them had him backed against the stairs with all their swords pointing at him.

Constance and Isabella approached the garrison to the sound of fighting. They shared a look and Isabella dashed round the corner ahead of her friend. "Stop fighting all of you!" Isabella shouted when she saw D'Artagnan pinned down. The three men turned at the unexpected intrusion. None of them recognised the first women but Constance appeared a moment later and her they knew. "Is three against one fair?"

"We weren't going to kill him," Athos said.

"Weren't we?" Porthos asked, turning completely for the first time. He stopped dead when his eyes landed on Isabella.

"Next time let us know," Aramis said. They all stepped away stowing their swords. Porthos risked a glance at Isabella again. Pale skin, almost black hair and the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. She was beautiful.

"Madame Bonacieux," Athos greeted. "Mademoiselle." He bowed to Isabella. "May I ask what you are doing here."

"We followed him because Constance knew he was going to do something stupid," Isabella said, stepping forward with Constance beside her.

"I don't need women to protect me," D'Artagnan said, standing up.

"Don't say another word!" Isabella ordered. "If only men would think instead of fight, there might be more good ones left."

"Who are you anyway?" D'Artagnan asked. "First you threaten to gut me now you're helping me."

"Constance talked me into it. Don't mistake my loyalty to her for any kind of regard for you."

"Him I'm not sure about, her I like," Aramis said. "You threatened to gut him?"

"That I did."

"And may we enquire as to your name?" Porthos asked, finally finding his voice.

Isabella looked at him and her eyes widened. He was by far one of the most attractive men she had laid eyes on since she had arrived in Paris. Aramis and Athos shared an amused look as the two stared at each other. "Isabella Delauncey," Isabella finally said.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Delauncey," Aramis said.

"Comtesse Delauncey," Constance said.

"Constance," Isabella whined.

"You're a Comtesse?" Portos questioned. Any hope he's had seemed to disappear. What could he ever offer a Comtesse?

"I'm afraid so," she murmured.

"What's going on?" Treville asked as entered the garrison. His eyes landed on Isabella. "Isabella? What are you doing here?" Isabella stepped forward and embraced her God father.

"You two know each other?" Aramis questioned.

"Yes," Treville said. "I was going to introduce her to the four of you once we had solved the issue of Corney but now is as good a time as any. Isabella is my ward now. Her parents passed away recently and as she has no living family left, her father left her to my care."

"You're the Captains ward?" Porthos asked.

Isabella moved to where Porthos was stood. "Is that a problem?" she asked him quietly. Porthos grinned down at him and the two began a conversation lost in their own world for a few moments.

"Do I want to know what is going on there?" Treville asked as he looked at Porthos and Isabella.

"Probably not," Aramis said with his trademark smirk. Treville thought he should have a word with Porthos but that would have to wait until later.

"Did you find Corney?" he asked.

"He never made it to the monastery," Athos said. "Give us twenty men and we'll search the road to Chartres."

"Athos, I'm sorry," Treville said as he waved two members of the Red Guard forward. "These men have come to arrest you. You're to appear before the King immediately." Porthos and Aramis stepped forward with their hands on the hilts of their swords. "Charged with robbery and murder. I promised them there'd be no trouble."

Aramis and Porthos released their holds on their sword and Athos handed his over to Treville before turning to D'Artagnan. "I'm not the man you're looking for," Athos told him.

"Why did my father name you before he died?" D'Artagnan demanded stepping forward.

"I don't know," Athos answered as the Red Guard escorted him from the garrison. They all watched him go, unsure of what to do.

* * *

 **A/N: Posted on 11/06/2016. All outfits are on my profile. Violet x.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

Chapter Two

"This man stands accused of highway robbery, assault and murder," Cardinal Richelieu said as he stood before the King and pointed at Athos. "While Captain Treville looks the other way his men riot in the streets."

"The charges are false, your Majesty," Treville said, stepping forward.

"There are witnesses," Richelieu informed the room looking smug. "You." He pointed to a man who stepped forward. "Tell the King what happened."

The man bowed before he began talking. "I own an inn," the man said. "The Musketeer named Athos and his men robbed me and murdered two of my guests." Porthos looked to Aramis who was frowning. "Michel Fournier and a Gascon named Alexandre D'Artagnan."

"I have never seen this man before in my life," Athos stated.

"You," Richelieu said, waving a younger man forward.

"I was driving my master and mistress home. We were attacked by a bandit, he said his name was Athos. He shot them both," the young man said.

"Is this your assailant?" Richelieu asked, pointing to Athos. The man turned and looked at the Musketeer for a moment.

"Yes, I believe so," he said but everyone in the room could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "He wore the same uniform."

"This is a mockery of justice!" Treville declared.

"There is not a word of truth in this," Athos said forcefully, raising his voice. "These men are mistaken."

"Musketeers are not above the law," Richelieu said approaching the King. "Remember, Sire. The King's judgement is infallible."

"Quite right," Louis said. "An example must be set. Take this Athos to the Chatelet. He will be executed at dawn. Athos stared unmoving. Aramis and Porthos were outraged but they both knew an outburst would not help Athos. The King stood and everyone in the room bowed.

"Your Majesty, if I might have a moment in private," Treville asked as he followed the King.

"The matter is closed," King Louis said as he turned to face him.

"It's about Cornet," Treville told him.

"What about him?" the King asked.

"He's gone missing," Treville said. "So have your letters."

The Queen looked at her husband wide eyed. "The Cardinal must not find out about those letters," King Louis said. "Do you understand? He must not know! Oh, you have disappointed me, Treville." The King walked away and Treville turned to the Queen who silently followed the King.

"If you want to help Athos, find Cornet," Treville ordered Aramis and Porthos as he walked passed them.

* * *

"Jacques-Michel Bonacieux at your service," Constance's husband introduced himself as Constance looked at D'Artagnan's ribs. Isabella watched on amused at Constance's husband. "Merchant in fine quality cloths and linens to the nobility. Perhaps you've heard of me."

"I'm afraid not," D'Artagnan said, his voice filled with pain. Isabella actually felt for him, she could sympathize with what he was going through having lost her own parents recently.

"Hmm," Monsieur Bonacieux made a disappointed noise. "So, how did you come by these injuries?"

"My injuries don't matter," D'Artagnan said. "I've failed my father. I came to kill the man that murdered him, but all I've found is more questions." D'Artagnan looked into the fire his face pained.

Isabella stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "We'll help if we can D'Artagnan," Isabella told him. He looked up at her and forced a gentle smile. He placed his hand over hers.

"I can't rest until I know the truth," D'Artagnan told her.

"That's lucky," Aramis said as he and Porthos walked into the room unannounced. Everyone turned to look. "Because rest is out of the question."

D'Artagnan stood backing away and drawing his sword. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Porthos said. "We're not here to fight."

Constance was pained as she wanted to go to him but had to stay by her husband. Isabella crossed the room and placed her hand on D'Artagnan's arm. D'Artagnan looked down at her and she nodded. Porthos watched the two and was caught off guard by the jealousy that flared in his chest. "Those Musketeers who attacked you, would you know any of them again?" Aramis asked.

"They all wore masks," D'Artagnan said. Aramis looked to Porthos and they exchanged frustrated looks. "I shot one of them. His body might still be there at the inn."

"All right, saddle up," Porthos told him. "We are leaving."

"This morning you tried to kill them, and now you're best friends?" Constance demanded.

"Athos's life is at stake," Aramis said. "He's to be executed in the morning for crimes he didn't commit. Forgive the intrusion, Monsieur." Aramis raised his hat from his head for a moment and then left.

"I'll tell you everything when I return," Isabella said and she left before she could be stopped.

Isabella caught up with them just outside. "I'm coming with you," Isabella declared. They all turned to look at her surprised.

"I don't think that is a good idea," Aramis said.

"That's funny because I don't recall asking you," Isabella told him. Porthos let out a laugh behind him and even D'Artagnan smiled. Isabella approached D'Artagnan. "I told you I would help. I can't imagine the pain of not knowing who did this to your father." D'Artagnan smiled at her and they both looked at Aramis.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "But we only have three horses so you'll have to ride with one of us."

* * *

Half an hour later Isabella was sat with her back to Porthos's chest as they rode over the snow covered ground out of the city. At the same time Athos was led through the Chatelet with his hands tied behind his back.

When they arrived at the inn where D'Artagnan's father had been killed Porthos dismounted before turning round to help Isabella down. D'Artagnan was already leading Aramis across the field to where they had spotted a body in an open grave. Isabella slid down between Porthos and the horse. Porthos remained where he was for a moment looking down in the beauty in his arms. Isabella blushed at his proximity. "Thank you," Isabella said quietly.

"No need to thank me, Comtesse," Porthos told her.

"Please don't call me that," Isabella said blushing a deeper red. "I'm just Isabella to my friends."

"Very well, Isabella," Porthos said and Isabella bit her lip at the way her name sounding coming from his mouth. "Shall we?" He stepped back gesturing to where Aramis and D'Artagnan had to come to a stop. Isabella nodded and set off ahead of Porthos.

"He's no Musketeer," Porthos said as he crouched down. Isabella took one look at the pale decomposing corpse and turned away covering her mouth with her hand. "Look at his clothes."

"There's two bullet holes," D'Artagnan pointed out.

"So?" Aramis questioned as both he and Porthos looked at D'Artagnan.

"I only fired once," he told them. Isabella finally turned back around. Porthos looked up at her with concern for a moment before he leaned towards the body. He pulled open the dead man's jacket.

"This is the shot that killed him," Porthos said, revealing a wound on the right side of his chest. "And this hole doesn't match any wound."

"It means he wasn't wearing the uniform when it was fired," Aramis stated.

"But someone else was," Porthos said, straightening up.

"Cornet," Aramis breathed.

* * *

"Make your last confession with an open heart, my son," a priest said as he approached the cell where Athos was. "And God will forgive you your sins."

"There was a woman," Athos said after a moment. "She died by my hand."

"You murdered her?" the priest asked, without any trace of judgement in his voice.

"I loved her," Athos told him. He looked down at the floor for a moment and seemed to pull out of the dark corner of his mind that he had drifted into. "Find some poor soul who deserves forgiveness, Father. Don't waste your time with me." The priest sighed but stood up to walk away.

* * *

"You chose well," Richelieu told Milady. "Athos is held in the highest regard by his fellow Musketeers. His disgrace and execution will strike a deadly blow against their morale." He turned to face her where she lurked in the shadows. "But why him?"

"I have my reasons," she said as she lowered her hood.

"I don't like secrets," Richelieu said.

"You asked me to help you discredit the Musketeers," Milady stated. "I have done so."

"And you've been well paid for it," Richelieu reminded her.

"There are others who will pay," she told him. "But my loyalty is to you. Let that be enough."

"Our plan did not include the murder of the Spanish traitor, Mendoza," Richelieu said. "He was still useful to me."

"He was a bad lover and a terrible bore. Mendoza betrayed his country for a handful of gold and a place in my bed. In due course, he would have betrayed you as well," Milady said. "He knew too much. You hired me to do a job." She produced a package of letters. "Mendoza's precious cargo with the King's own seal. Why do these letters mean so much to you?"

"The king has begun to believe he can rule without me. The loss of these letter will remind him otherwise," Richelieu explained, taking them from Milady's hand. "One more thing." He took a gun from within his robes and handed it to her. "Find out who owns this pistol. Return it to me when you have his name. You will be well rewarded."

She looked the gun over before walking away with it. "Did you enjoy killing Mendoza?" the Cardinal asked Milady making her stop and turn back to him. "Did it give you pleasure?" Milady merely smirked at him before continuing to walk away.

* * *

"If I was planning an ambush I would do it here," Porthos said, his chest vibrating against Isabella's back as he spoke. Could she possibly be any more aware of him? "Plenty of cover. Good sightlines. Cornet wouldn't have suspected a thing."

They all dismounted and Porthos put his hand on Isabella's elbow to stop her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. She frowned at him not sure what he meant. "The sight of that body at the inn almost made you ill. These probably won't be in much better condition."

"I'm better prepared this time," she told Porthos, touched he cared. Porthos nodded and offered her his hand to help her through the trees. Three bodies were laid not too far into the trees. The people who had attacked them hadn't even tried to bury them.

Aramis walked between the bodies and knelt beside the middle one. "Cornet," he whispered, taking his hat off and holding it to his chest. Porthos set off back towards the horses furious. Isabella immediately set off after him. "D'Artagnan, the men who did this killed your father as well. If you want justice, help us find them and clear Athos's name."

"They shot them like animals and stripped them of their uniforms!" Porthos slid down the embankment as the words poured from his mouth.

"It's inhuman," Isabella agreed. Porthos turned surprised to see Aramis and D'Artagnan had not yet followed. "Was he a friend of yours?"

"Yes," Porthos said. Isabella approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry," she told him. Porthos returned her embrace trying to ignore the stirring of desire he felt as having her so close. Aramis cleared his throat as he and D'Artagnan cleared the trees. Isabella pulled back with a blush and Porthos adjusted the saddle on his horse. A coin on the ground caught his eye so he leaned down and picked it up.

When he saw what it was he let out a quiet laugh. "Was Cornet carrying Spanish gold?" Porthos asked, turning to Aramis and holding up the coin. He reached into the leather bag he carried coins in. "You could go a year in Paris without seeing a new Spanish doubloon and that makes two in a week." He finally found what he was looking for and show them the two coins.

"Where did you get that?" D'Artagnan asked.

"I won it, in a card game with a Red Guard."

* * *

"There have been numerous incidents and provocations," Cardinal Richelieu told the King. "War with Spain is inevitable."

"It is not the time for war," King Louis tried to reason.

"On the contrary, Spain must not be allowed to dominate Europe," Richelieu argued. "That is France's destiny."

"The Queen is Spanish," the King reminded him.

"I am aware of that," Richelieu said.

"I never knew a woman with so many opinions," the King told Richelieu quietly. "I wrote some letters to my brother-in-law, the King of Spain. Letters that touched upon our foreign policy."

"What did these letters say?" Richelieu asked, turning back to face the King.

"They discussed the terms of a peace treaty," the King confessed.

The Cardinal looked lost for a words for a moment. "France must resist Spanish aggression," he said. "I have made our position very clear."

"The thing is, the letters have gone missing," the King said. "If they were to fall into the hands of our enemies, it might prove embarrassing."

"Perhaps fatal would be a better word, Sire," Richelieu snapped. "Such letters would show France to be weak and divided. What other conclusion is possible, if the King allows his First Minister to pursue one policy in public, while advocating another in private?" The Cardinal let out a noise of frustration. "It's clear… I must withdraw from public life immediately."

"I will give you whatever you want, Armand," the King told him. "Just get me out of this mess." The Cardinal stopped still facing away from the King. "I should never have done anything without your counsel."

The Cardinal finally turned back round after a few moments. "How were these letters conveyed?" he asked as he approached the King again.

"Treville arranged it," the King said. "And then his Musketeers made a mess of everything. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I will disband their whole regiment if that's what it takes to make you happy."

"Well," the Cardinal said. "In due course, possibly."

"Only please, don't leave me alone."

* * *

Porthos made his way down the steps into the pub he had been told the Red Guard he was looking for was in. A silence passed over the room as he reached the bottom. "I hate it when that happens," Porthos said to himself, then made his way through the room. "I love the crowd in here, very chatty!"

He approached the bar and the man behind it looked up. "I don't want any trouble," he told Porthos.

"Anyone'd think you didn't like me," Porthos said. "I'm looking for Dujon. Red Guard."

The man in question raised his head at the sound of his name. "I haven't seen him," the man behind the bar lied.

"I was told he was here," Porthos insisted. Dujon turned, looking round the corner from where he was sat.

He placed down his drink quietly and stood. "Well, you was told wrong," the bartender told Porthos. Dujon drew his dagger and approached. He wasn't quiet enough because Porthos turned, hitting him in the face before bouncing his head off the bar knocking him out cold.

* * *

Dujon gasped as the sack he'd had on his head since he came to was pulled off. He looked up into the amused faces of Porthos and Aramis. D'Artagnan was stood off to the side with Isabella. "Time to pay the reckoning for Cornet," Aramis told him.

"And, I bet he's gonna say 'I have no idea what you're talking about'," Porthos said, his tone taking on a sarcastic edge. Isabella looked down with a smile, she wasn't sure what it was about Porthos but she couldn't help it.

"And then we'll have to hurt him," Aramis said to Porthos.

"At which point he'll suddenly remember that he killed him," Porthos responded. Porthos and Aramis looked at each other. "Why wait? Let's just hurt him now." They both looked down at Dujon.

"It could go like that," Aramis said, leaning down. "Or we can just skip to the confession part. It would save us time and you pain. A lot of pain."

"I was just following orders," Dujon finally said.

"He was just following orders," Porthos told Aramis.

"We better let him go then," Aramis suggested. Porthos smirked and leaned down, pulling Dujon up by his shirt collar.

"I can't tell you. They'll kill me," Dujon stated.

"No need for that," Aramis said and Porthos released him. "We're not brutes. We'll just shoot him."

"What? No!" Dujon protested. "Listen, you can't please."

Porthos chuckled as he walked Dujon back and tied him to a pillar. "You know," Aramis said, conversationally. "People say I'm quite good with these."

"Good?" Porthos questioned rhetorically then chuckled again. "He's the best. He's so modest." Dujon looked over Porthos's shoulder alarmed as the Musketeer finished tying him up.

"But… The musket isn't the most reliable weapon," Aramis stated as he stepped forward with the gun in his hands. "From a hundred yards, I'll probably miss as often as I hit. From fifty, well, I rarely miss. But from ten? It's just a matter of which vital organ do I choose to hit first?"

"No, no, no. Please, listen, listen…" Dujon begged.

"Heart?" Porthos asked ignoring the Red Guard.

"Too swift," Aramis disagreed. "The liver, perhaps?" Porthos laughed at his friend. "Or a stomach shot? Death is inevitable, but you'll bleed for hours first."

"You can't. This is murder," Dujon stated.

"Well, we won't tell if you won't," Porthos told him. Aramis raised the gun and Dujon panicked, struggling to get free. Dujon turned his head to the side and Aramis pulled the trigger. Dujon tensed when nothing happened. "Bang." Dujon let out a strangled noise.

"Oh, I forgot the ball," Aramis said with a smile and Porthos laughed. "This time…" He held up the ball for Dujon to see. Aramis rolled it between his fingers and he moved it closer to the musket.

"It was Captain Gaudet," Dujon said. Aramis stopped just short of dropping the ball into the gun.

"Of the Red Guards?" Porthos asked.

"He told us to do it," Dujon stated. "He said he wanted a few men for a special mission. Something unofficial. An ambush to steal the Kings letters. But Gaudet went mad. He killed them all. None of us knew it would be murder."

"You took this from Cornet?" Porthos questioned, showing him the coin.

"His saddle bags were full of Spanish gold," Dujon told them. "Gaudet said we could share it between us. I just…"

D'Artagnan approached Dujon as he spoke. He grabbed the Red Guard's hair and pinned him to the pillar. "Who murdered my father?" he demanded. "Who?"

"Gaudet. It was Gaudet," Dujon told him. Porthos pulled D'Artagnan off him. "He did it to blacken Athos's name. I'm not like him. I'm not a killer. I'm a soldier like you."

Porthos wrapped his hand round Dujon's throat and lifted him off the ground. "Where is Gaudet now?" Aramis asked.

"He's camped at the old ruins," Dujon managed to say. "Outside the city gates."

* * *

The five of them scaled the hill not far from the ruins. Isabella cursed the dress she was wearing. They all peered over the top and Aramis pulled out his spyglass to get a closer look. "Gaudet keeps his camp well-guarded," Dujon told them. "You'll never surprise him."

"Shut up," Porthos ordered through gritted teeth.

"The bridge is the only way in or out," Aramis said. "There's too many of them for a frontal assault. I could take a couple of them out from here."

"No, by the time you've reloaded the rest will be long gone," Porthos stated. "Now, if we're gonna captured Gaudet alive and get back those uniforms, it'll have to be by stealth. We need a distraction something they'd never expect."

D'Artagnan moved back and thought for a moment. "I know something that might work," he said, his eyes flickered to Isabella for a moment but no was looking his way to see.

Constance looked from D'Artagnan to Aramis and Porthos and back again. "You have got to be kidding!" she told them.

"Actually, we're quite serious," Aramis said sarcastically with his usual smirk.

"And you want one of us to do this?" Constance asked. "Isabella would be better than me. She's good with a sword and she can shoot."

"A Comtesse who can handle a sword?" Aramis questioned.

"I was my father's only child. I think he always craved a son but in lieu of that he taught me how to fight and defend myself," Isabella explained and then looked to Constance. "I think you'll be better for this than me. I'll come along anyway, if you would like?" Constance looked between them all and sighed. She knew she had lost.

* * *

Constance muttered to herself and adjusted the sleeve of her dress as she walked to where the guard stood by the bridge that led to the ruins. He raised his gun. "What do you want?" the guard asked.

"Fifty sous and I'll take you to heaven," Constance said in a seductive voice.

"Are you one of those religious nutcases?" he asked.

"It was a metaphor," Constance said dryly, her seductive act slipping away for a moment as she resisted rolling her eyes. The man frowned at her and Constance quickly realised he didn't understand. "Never mind." Constance forced her smile back on her face. "You can do whatever you like." She moved forward so she was between him and the rail that ran along the bridge. "I'm all yours. Clear enough?"

The man eyed her and Constance had to remind herself not to hit him. "Yeah. Five sous?"

"Five?!" Constance demanded outraged.

"All right, ten, but that's it," he said.

"Fine," Constance conceded. The man stepped back but before he could do anything else Porthos was behind him. Constance watched as Porthos rendered him unconscious. Another guard on patrol walked passed and Porthos had no choice but to lean the first soldier against Constance and crouch behind them so he wouldn't be seen. "Oh!"

"Oi, my turn next," the guard shouted then laughed. Constance grabbed his arm and waved it knowing his friend wouldn't move on if he thought something was wrong. Porthos stood slowly then pulled the man off Constance.

"Excuse me," Porthos said and set off across the bridge using the man as shield.

"Ten sous?" Aramis questioned, stopping in front of Constance. "Shame on you."

Isabella walked passed next. She had ditched her dress for a pair of breeches, a shirt and coat she had borrowed from D'Artagnan. Porthos hadn't been able to take his eyes off her when she had stepped out wearing men's clothes. "Are you okay?" Constance merely nodded. Isabella smiled and carried on after Aramis and Porthos.

"I'm in your debt," D'Artagnan told Constance when he approached.

"I'm doing this for Athos," Constance told him. D'Artagnan's eyes trailed down before he could stop himself. Constance hit him on the arm. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Stay over there and you'll be safe, okay?" D'Artagnan told her. "If you're in any danger, use this." He handed her a pistol. Constance watched D'Artagnan go and eyed the gun warily before she moved, hiding where D'Artagnan told her to.

Porthos had ditched the unconscious guard before he got to the other side of the bridge and drew both his guns. The four of them looked over towards where there was a fire in the centre of the ruins. "There he is," Aramis told them. D'Artagnan looked impatient from where he stood between Isabella and Aramis. "That's Gaudet over there." They a tall man with dark hair approach the fire as he drank from a bottle.

"He thinks no one can touch him," Porthos said. They were all stood so closely together in the small space Isabella felt his breath on her neck. She barely kept her face neutral as she stifled an involuntary groan.

"Wait for my signal," Aramis said. "Surprise is everything."

D'Artagnan was overcome with rage at seeing the man who had murdered his father drinking so casually. He ran out from their hiding place. "Gaudet!" he shouted as he ran at them.

The men all shout and immediately arm themselves caught off guard by D'Artagnan. "Well, surprise would have been everything," Aramis said. He and Porthos stepped out of their hiding place followed by Isabella. Shot are being fired in everything direction and a bullet skimmed Isabella's arm as she tried to dodge out of the way. Porthos turned at her grunt of pain. He didn't hesitate to put a bullet in the chest of the man who had shot at her.

He looked torn. "I'm fine," Isabella told him. Porthos just had time to shove one of his guns into her hand before shot from above narrowly missed him. Porthos stayed beside Isabella as they made their across the ruins killing anyone in their way. Isabella tossed her gun to the floor angrily when she ran out of ammunition. Isabella leaned against one of the walls while she watched Porthos take on a large man by himself. Isabella pressed her hand to her bleeding arm to try and slow the bleeding.

Constance appeared beside her as Porthos was knocked to the ground with no weapon to defend himself. "Are you okay?" Constance asked. "You're bleeding!"

"Where did you get a gun?" Isabella questioned. "Never mind, give it here." She whipped the gun from Constance's grasp, Isabella aimed at the man and hit him in the chest. He wavered a moment before falling sideways. Porthos looked confused for a moment but then his gaze landed on Isabella who still had the gun held out in front of her and he grinned. "Stay here." Constance nodded and Isabella handed her back the gun in case she needed it. Porthos led Isabella under an old archway to where Aramis was.

They all watched Gaudet and D'Artagnan fighting. "D'Artagnan," Aramis shouted running forward when the younger man had the Red Guard pinned to the ground. "We need him alive." D'Artagnan looked as Aramis for a moment and he shook his head.

D'Artagnan looked down at the men on the floor disgusted. "Death in combat is too honourable for you," D'Artagnan told Gaudet. "I'd rather see you hang." D'Artagnan withdrew his swords, releasing Gaudet. D'Artagnan turned walking away. Aramis looked to where Porthos was sending the last few guards on their way. He turned back to see Gaudet running at D'Artagnan with a knife.

"D'Artagnan!" Aramis shouted. D'Artagnan only had time to turn to see what was going on and Gaudet ran straight into his sword that was still in his hand. D'Artagnan looked at Aramis alarmed as Gaudet landed on the floor with a thud.

Porthos approached Isabella who was sat on the floor with Constance beside her. Constance was holding a rag over Isabella's wound. "Let me see," Porthos said. Constance moved back and Porthos pulled the rag away gently. The blood had tried making the rag stick to the wound. Isabella gave a cry of pain. Porthos examined it quickly. "You're lucky, it only grazed your arm. It will need stitched though."

He pulled his bandanna off and wrapped it around Isabella's arm tying it as tightly as he dare to stop the bleeding until Aramis could look at it. "I need to look around, I'll be back in a moment," Porthos said. Isabella nodded and closed her eyes. She'd not lost a great deal of blood but enough to make her feel weak.

Porthos turned to look at Aramis and D'Artagnan as he stood by a cart not far away. Porthos whistled and the two men looked. "The stolen uniforms," Porthos said holding a piece of one of them up. "They're all here."

Aramis walked towards Porthos with a smile. "With Dujon's confession, that's all the proof we need," Aramis said. Isabella watched as D'Artagnan approached Constance from where she was sat.

Constance looked down at the man she had shot to save D'Artagnan. D'Artagnan wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. "I killed him," Constance whispered.

"You saved my life," D'Artagnan told her.

"Take me home," Constance said. "My husband will be back soon." Constance turned to her friend. "Will you be okay?" Isabella nodded and D'Artagnan put his arm around Constance and led her away.

Porthos walked to where Isabella was sat and helped her up. Isabella swayed, feeling a little faint from the loss of blood. Porthos wrapped an arm around her shoulder and swept the other under her legs. Isabella gave a squeal of surprise and Porthos laughed. Aramis fell into step beside him as they headed for the garrison.

Treville was stood outside his office when Porthos walked in carrying Isabella with Aramis beside him. "What's going on?" Treville asked as he walked down the stairs. He realized Isabella was bleeding when he got to the bottom. "Isabella, what happened?"

"She was shot," Aramis said.

"And what was she doing in the middle of an arms fight?" Treville asked, his expression concerned as he looked at how pale Isabella was. Porthos had her arm around his neck to keep her upright.

"That story is probably best left until Isabella's wound has been tended to," Aramis suggested.

"Of course," Treville agreed. "I'll send for Doctor Lee." He turned to head back to his office.

"No," Isabella whispered weakly and Treville turned back to her. "Aramis can see to my wound. I trust him." Treville raised an eyebrow but Aramis simply nodded.

"Very well," he said. "Come get me once it's done."

Porthos half carried Isabella towards one of the spare rooms in the garrison. He sat Isabella on the bed and dropped down beside her. Isabella managed to sit on her own for a moment before she slumped against him. "We need to stop the bleeding," Aramis said. "She's lost too much blood already."

Porthos nodded. Aramis disappeared out the door to collect his medical equipment and Porthos helped Isabella from the vest she was wearing. Isabella protested when he untied the neck of her shirt. "I'm just going to slip your arm out so Aramis can get to it." Isabella nodded and let him. Isabella curled into Porthos's chest and remained there while Aramis stitched her wound up.

Porthos stayed after Aramis was done and left only was Isabella had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was almost dawn when Athos was led from his cell by two guards. He was taken to a small enclosed courtyard and stood before a firing squad. Milady watched it all unfold from a window above him. Athos looked ahead, genuinely afraid for the first time since this had all began. "Take aim," the captain of the Red Guards said.

"Come on and shoot, damn you," Athos said trying not to lose his nerve.

"Hold your fire," the Captain of the Red Guard's said.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be in such a hurry to die," Aramis said as he walked down the stairs towards him. "Your release, signed by the King." Porthos followed Aramis and held his hand up indicating for the men lined up to lower their weapons.

Athos let out a breath sagging against the wall in relief. "Get these chains off him," D'Artagnan said. Athos looked at Aramis and Porthos for a moment.

"I thought I'd finally shaken you two off," Athos told them with a smirk.

Porthos chuckled as Aramis put his hand on Athos's shoulder. "Oh, believe me, there are easier ways," Porthos said. Athos walked across the enclosed yard and paused in front of where D'Artagnan stood by the bottom of the steps. He nodded at the young man in acknowledgement before walking up them.

* * *

"You came to Paris to kill Athos and end up saving his life," Aramis observed as D'Artagnan sat down at the table with the Musketeers.

"After a few drinks, I'm sure he'll appreciate the irony," D'Artagnan said as Aramis glanced over at where his friend sat at a corner table by himself. "What's wrong with him anyway?"

"Ah, woman trouble," Porthos answered.

"There was someone special once," Aramis explained. "She died. That's all he ever said."

"I'd better stay behind," Porthos said. "He'll need someone to carry him home."

"I thought you would have been eager to return to the Comtesse Delauncey," Aramis said with a smirk.

"After today I think we can all agree it's not the best idea. If that bullet had been a few inches to the left Treville would be planning her funeral right now."

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to say something but Aramis put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and shook his head. "Do you need somewhere to stay?" Aramis asked D'Artagnan when he stood.

"No, I have a place," D'Artagnan told him.

"In the arms of Madame Bonacieux?" Aramis inquired with a smirk.

"She is a married woman," D'Artagnan protested.

Porthos and Aramis looked at each other and grinned. "You really are from Gascony, aren't you?"

* * *

Isabella rolled over groggily to find Porthos sat beside her bed. "How are you feeling?" Porthos asked her. If Aramis and D'Artagnan found out he was here after what he'd said about her not being safe with him.

"A little sore," she admitted. "The stitches pull. My God Father has ordered me to rest for a few days."

Porthos nodded. He stood and sat on the bed beside her to take her hand. "You gave me quite a scare today."

"I'm alive, Porthos," Isabella said. "And you took care of the man who did it." Porthos nodded and kissed her hand. Isabella blushed before she closed her eyes feigning sleep. Nothing she could say to him at the moment would bring her anything but embarrassment.

* * *

 **A/N: Posted on 25/07/2016. All outfits are on my profile. Violet x.**


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